Turn
by stubadingdong
Summary: The long awaited sequel to "Harbinger" **COMPLETE** Possible CONTEST ENTRY, will let y'all decide.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Turn  
  
AUTHORS: stub & Joe  
  
DATE: 10-25-02  
  
RATING: R  
  
CODE: T/Tu  
  
SERIES: ENT  
  
DISCLAIMER: We don't own the characters and would never presume to take responsibility for their actions. They do what they want. We just type the words.  
  
SUMMARY: Sequel to "Harbinger" Go read that one (at the Pecan Pie Chronicles) and then this one will make much more sense.  
  
NOTES: We honestly had no intentions of making a sequel. But then the Muses decided otherwise. And they did a hell of a job, if we do say so ourselves, even if it did take us months and months.  
  
  
  
They'd stumbled back into T'Pol's quarters, neither one quite willing to let the other go just yet. Trip flopped down on her bed, pulling her with him. He rolled them over so they were on their sides facing each other. They didn't speak, but their eyes said volumes. All the confusion, arousal, affection, worry and uncertainty of the past few hours still hung in the air between them. His arms were wrapped tightly around her. Her hands stroked his face, punctuated with soft kisses.  
  
The gentle, tentative caresses soon turned to more purposeful stroking and they found themselves locked in another passionate embrace. They explored each other with leisurely abandon, hands and tongues canvassing the flesh of the other. Doubts and logic were both forgotten as their physical pleasures mounted. Clear thoughts evaporated as he entered her, thrusting deeply. Her ankles locked around his waist, she thought of nothing but him. His eyes closed and his teeth clenched, he thought of nothing but her. In this moment there were no consequences, there was no tomorrow. There was only her, her climax enveloping them. There was only him, grunting softly in her ear as he came.  
  
The days to follow were nothing less than normal in this new routine. Trip would visit T'Pol's quarters every evening as he had in the past. However, instead of meditating together they'd find themselves naked and tangled in her sheets. They favored sex over emotion; physical pleasure over balance. Hormones and pheromones overpowered reason. Rides in the turbolift were paused, a sexual frenzy exploding inside. Every spare moment was spent together, though they didn't speak a word of it. Duty shifts were distracting, concentration levels low. Both were rapidly losing focus but neither was compelled nor willing to introduce any sort of discussion into their situation. It was if the two had fallen into some sort of coital trance.  
  
Nearly three weeks had passed since the failed experiment in Engineering and the engines were still not at their peak performance. Archer decided a trip downstairs would clear up any doubts as to when Trip would have things at 100%. He found his Chief Engineer sitting at his workstation, absorbed in something on the screen of his computer. The rest of his crew bustled around busily. All seemed to be in order.  
  
"Trip!" Archer greeted his friend.  
  
Trip's head snapped up and a broad grin spread across his face. "Cap'n! What brings you down here to the bowels of Enterprise?"  
  
"Oh, just making my rounds," replied Archer casually. "Everything alright?"  
  
"Fine, sir," the engineer said. "Just a few more adjustments and we should be able to hit Warp Six again."  
  
Archer nodded. "I was beginning to wonder..."  
  
Trip waved his hand and said, "I know, I know. I'm sorry. Things just weren't goin' as fast as they usually do down here."  
  
"Any particular reason for that?" Archer looked at Trip expectantly.  
  
"My plate's full, sir," the younger man said quickly, his smile disappearing. Trip turned his attention back to his computer. "Got a lot to do as of late."  
  
"Trip," the captain said, "is everything alright...personally?"  
  
"What're you fishin' for, Jon?" Trip snapped. He was trying to be friendly but there was a nervous undercurrent in his tone.   
  
Archer sighed. "We're several days behind schedule with the repairs, you've been distracted for the last two weeks and your performance level has dropped twelve percent," he said bluntly. "If you don't want to talk to me about it, that's fine. Just don't let whatever it is interfere with your work. There seems to be a lot of distraction going around...as of late." He echoed Trip's phrasing. "I know everyone has problems from time to time but we can't let these issues affect our mission."  
  
Trip looked up at him. He nodded and swallowed. "Aye, sir," he said, his tone softening. "I'll figure it out, Jon. Promise." He cast one last glance at Archer and forced a smile.  
  
"Okay," Archer said with a nod. "I'll be checking up on you, Trip." He turned and walked out of Engineering, leaving Trip even more distracted.  
  
Trip blew out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Dammit," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.  
  
  
  
Archer stepped onto the bridge from the lift. He cast a glance around and noticed his science officer staring straight in front of her. Was she daydreaming again? He had noticed that T'Pol had been distracted of late much like Trip. It suddenly occurred to him that there might be a deeper connection between T'Pol and Trip than he would allow on his ship. It looked like he'd have to speak to her as well.  
  
"T'Pol?" he called.  
  
After a moment, she rose from the Captain's chair and turned to face him. T'Pol raised an eyebrow in question, hands clasped behind her back. "Yes Captain?"  
  
"May I speak with you in my ready room?"  
  
"Of course." She followed him in and stood at attention in front of his desk.  
  
"Have a seat," Archer said, gesturing towards a chair. She complied and waited.  
  
Archer looked at her, trying to gauge from her expressionless face what could have the Vulcan so distracted. He sighed and decided to just come out with it.  
  
"I've noticed you've been somewhat...preoccupied lately. Very unusual for a Vulcan." He waited.  
  
T'Pol held his gaze and blinked once. "I was not aware that my small personal distractions had become public. I apologize. I will be more diligent with my duties, sir."  
  
"I just came back up from Engineering," he continued, seemingly not hearing her last words. "Trip seems to be suffering from the same sort of 'distractions'. Is everything fine?" He paused, then added, "with the both of you?"  
  
"There is nothing out of the ordinary, sir. My situation running parallel with Commander Tucker's must be mere coincidence. I appreciate your concern but it is unnecessary," she stated flatly, but somewhat unconvincingly. She continued with a hint of sarcasm. "Perhaps there is something in the air."   
  
"Maybe, but your performance level has dropped considerably, T'Pol. I have come to expect a lot from my science officer over the years and your current situation is somewhat alarming. I don't want your 'distractions' to affect this ship or our mission." Archer waited, letting his last few words hang in the air between them.   
  
"Captain, I have no intention of letting my personal issues interfere with our mission. There has been a considerable amount of stress over the past few weeks and I may not be dealing with it in the best of ways." She stopped before elaborating further.   
  
"Well," Archer continued, "how would you normally deal with such levels of stress?" He wanted to find out more but did not want to cross what seemed to be an invisible line between the two of them.  
  
T'Pol paused for a moment to carefully phrase her answer. "Well sir, under normal circumstances, I meditate to deal with my personal issues. With all the chaos that Mr. Tucker's warp drive experiment caused and the ensuing clean up, my meditation time has diminished sharply. I believe that my distractions are a direct result of my lack of meditation." Her voice trailed off. Everything suddenly became a lot clearer. Since Trip's failed experiment in Engineering led to the ensuing argument with him, was it logical to believe that her lack of meditation, their lack of meditation, led to their first sexual encounter? Was that the reason neither one of them could control themselves anymore around the other? She began to ponder that. Whatever the case, this lack of control was becoming increasingly noticeable to others.   
  
"T'Pol?" Archer asked, suddenly concerned. He waved his hand in front of her to get her attention.  
  
"Sorry, Captain. As I was saying, my meditation time has decreased considerably over past few weeks. My normal meditation sessions can last up to two hours. In the past two weeks, I have not meditated for more than twenty minutes a day. It would seem this may be the cause for my preoccupation, sir," she said. "And perhaps Commander Tucker's as well."  
  
Archer chewed on that for a moment. "T'Pol, would you mind elaborating on that?" He was treading on dangerous ground but felt that he was getting closer to a solution with T'Pol than he was with Trip. "Of course. As you know, Commander Tucker and I have been meditating together for the past few years. Through our meditation sessions, we achieved a workable relationship, which later developed into a friendship. Due to the heightened tensions in Engineering as a result of his failed test, we have not been able to string more than a few civil words together in each other's presence. It seems that our relationship has taken a turn for the worse and it is beginning to affect the ship in a negative manner. I will talk to Mr. Tucker this evening in order to put a stop to this situation."   
  
It was more than she planned on saying but she felt this was necessary to throw Archer off track until things could come to an end between her and Trip. What she said was true to a certain extent. Their friendship was built upon a common interest in her meditation sessions. It helped bring a calm to their adversarial relationship and brought them closer together. It was when they stopped meditating that their relationship took a different route, one that led them to each other's arms and eventually into each other's beds. She had thought that she could continue on in normal fashion through this carnal exercise but it was becoming increasingly apparent that their tempestuous relationship was going to explode in their faces if it did not come to an end.   
  
Archer nodded. He understood the importance of their meditation sessions and how it helped their friendship, but he failed to understand the whole picture. As long as she was going to deal with these 'distractions', that was fine with him. He had a ship to run and he needed things like this nipped in the bud before they hurt the mission. "I guess you're dismissed then," he said with a little smile.  
  
T'Pol rose from her seat and left Archer's ready room. She knew she had to speak to Commander Tucker as soon as her shift ended.  
  
Archer turned and looked out the window at the stars shooting past. He knew Trip and T'Pol had been meditating together for quite some time now. He now knew that it was those same meditations that helped them deal with the problems they had with one another so many years ago. Perhaps the stresses of the Engineering explosion combined with the interruption of their daily ritual were enough to distract his two most valued crewmembers. Perhaps bringing this to their attention would help solve the problem and things could get back to normal for them. Or maybe he was just sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. He contemplated that thought as he continued gazing out into the darkness. 


	2. Chapter 2

As T'Pol made her way down to Engineering, she thought of how she was going to tell Commander Tucker about her new revelation. Perhaps not so much a revelation but rather a sane thought delivered in a moment of clarity. Would he balk at her suggestion or would he agree? Lost deep in her thoughts, she nearly ran into the main doors of Engineering. She rolled her eyes at herself in mild disgust, an action she'd no doubt picked up somewhere over the years from Mr. Tucker.  
  
The doors opened and she entered. T'Pol hadn't been down here for almost two weeks, not since this whole thing started. They had silently decided to refrain from seeing each other while on duty, unless there was some sort of crisis. It was difficult enough to control themselves in their free time. Work time was supposed to be just that. She spotted him at his computer in the corner. One of his subordinates was hovering over his shoulder, both of them studying the monitor before them.  
  
T'Pol hung back until the crewman returned to his duties. She slowly approached Trip, almost cautiously. He looked up, surprise marking his handsome features.  
  
"Afternoon, Sub-Commander," he tentatively greeted her. He tried to force a smile, but she noted his eyes glazing over slightly with desire.  
  
"Commander," replied T'Pol with a nod. She took a step closer as he stood up.  
  
"What're you doin' here?" he hissed, instantly at her side. He bent his head and whispered into her ear, "You know jus' the sight of you is enough to get me all hot an' hard."  
  
She remained stoic. "It is urgent we speak immediately after our shifts are over," she said quietly, a now familiar heat beginning to spread in her lower regions. T'Pol tried to push it away and remain professional. His breath on her face was intoxicating.  
  
"Talk about what?" Trip asked. He folded his arms, trying desperately not to touch her. His mouth was so close to her pointed ear, and as he'd discovered, they turned him on like never before.  
  
T'Pol closed her eyes and had to take a step back from him. She breathed in air that did not smell like him and opened her eyes. "I will meet you in your quarters at 1900."  
  
Trip nodded, confusion replacing the lust. He watched as she turned and marched out of Engineering. He sat back down and sighed heavily. He momentarily closed his eyes and saw her face. He opened his eyes with a start, shook his head, and tried once again to focus on the statistics on his monitor.   
  
  
  
Trip paced his quarters while waiting for T'Pol to arrive. He wasn't quite sure what she wanted to talk about, but he thought he had a pretty good idea. It was obvious now, after his talk with Archer, that his distraction and preoccupation with the Vulcan was becoming apparent to others as well. It wasn't a discreet affair anymore. He stopped short.  
  
"Affair?" Trip muttered aloud. "Is that all this ever was?"  
  
Just then the chime on his door went off. She was here and he would know soon enough. He went to answer the door. To his delight, T'Pol had changed out of her uniform and into one of her looser meditation outfits. Trip hated that skin-tight number she wore everyday. Even if it did accentuate each and every curve to a tee, it was hard to maneuver in the heat of the moment.   
  
"Evenin' Sub-Commander," he greeted her with a broad smile. She nodded as she slid inside. Trip stepped aside and she breezed past him as she always did. He watched her move across his quarters, pausing at the portal.  
  
"There is something we must discuss, Commander," T'Pol said, not turning around. She watched the stars streaking by.  
  
Trip stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "What has you all bugged, darlin'?" His lips found her neck and he kissed his way to her pointed ear. "Can't be that bad, can it?"   
  
"Trip, please..." she began. That familiar lustful heat that had been coiled in her belly began to spiral outward at his touch. She wouldn't be able to speak if she didn't move away soon.  
  
"Please what?" he whispered into her ear, his tongue sliding slowly up to the tip.  
  
"Don't," she managed. One arm came up to grasp him behind his neck. She meant to push him away but held his head in place instead.  
  
"Don't?" Trip teased. "Don't what?" His left arm remained wrapped around her while his right hand wandered down her thigh and back up around to her bottom. He gave her right cheek a gentle squeeze.  
  
"Stop," breathed T'Pol, turning around to face him.  
  
Their gazes locked for a second before her mouth sealed to his in a crushing kiss. Her hands were in his hair while his stroked up her back and down to her cup her ass, pulling her closer.  
  
T'Pol broke away first, trying to reign in her rapidly diminishing control. "We have to talk."  
  
"We can talk later," growled Trip, suckling her neck again. His hands had found their way under her tunic, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. He grabbed the hem of her top and yanked it up over her head, leaving her naked to the waist. He pulled her in for another kiss.  
  
Once again T'Pol found all coherent thought evaporate from her mind as her primal instincts took over. Forgetting the reason she came here, she mimicked his previous action and slid her hands up under his shirt and over his head. As she discarded it to the floor, her hands trailed down his bare chest. Her tongue followed the path, which led to one of his flat nipples. It pleased her to hear a moan from him as she sucked his flesh, her hands sweeping down his hard stomach.  
  
"Wait," he grunted and stepped back briefly. He gazed at her and upon seeing the lust in her eyes Trip pulled her to him again and kissed her deeply. He reached for the light and turned it off. He knew her body well enough already.   
  
They made their way to his bed and he pushed her gently down. She wrapped her arms around him as he nestled himself between her legs. He moaned, the sound lost in their kiss...  
  
  
  
After their frenzied love-making, he rolled off her and lay at her side. Neither spoke nor even looked at the other for long minutes, their respiration slowing. They both stared up at the ceiling. Not able to stand the silence any longer, Trip looked over at T'Pol.  
  
"Now what?" he asked quietly.  
  
She blinked, still looking up. Sighing softly she said, "We can't continue this behavior."  
  
"I'm guessin' that's what you came here to talk about," he replied, his own gaze drifted back to the ceiling.  
  
"Yes," said T'Pol simply. He nodded.  
  
"Captain Archer spoke with me today about my lack of focus," she continued.  
  
"Yeah, he came down to Engineering, too," Trip said. "I guess we're makin' it pretty obvious, huh?"  
  
"Indeed," she agreed. "Perhaps the solution to our dilemma is the same as the reason this began."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Meditation," T'Pol replied. "You have stopped entirely since the explosion in Engineering and my own has been cut down drastically. I believe that is the cause of all this."  
  
"Now wait a second, T'Pol. You think that us not meditatin' is the cause of us doing...well...what we've been doin'." He frowned. "I'm not sure I can buy that as easily as you have. To borrow a phrase, it's not logical." Trip sighed and added, "But I do know what you mean."  
  
She furrowed her brow. "Perhaps you're right. I may have been reaching a bit by placing so much emphasis on our lack of meditation." She smiled into the darkness. "However, there is something quite illogical about our coupling."   
  
"Well then." He stopped and thought for a moment. "Truthfully T'Pol, us not meditatin' may be part of the reason why we're where we are but it's definitely not the whole reason. There is a definite attraction and we both know it."   
  
"Yes, there is." T'Pol agreed.  
  
"There's a weird sort of irony to this whole situation, y'know," Trip stated matter-of-factly. He turned his head and waited for her prompt. He received a raised eyebrow and continued. "All this started 'cause three weeks ago I dared you to lose control."  
  
She caught on immediately. "And now that one incident has had a 'domino effect' and the final result is the situation we're in now. The irony being that the entire dare to lose control has itself lost control. An interesting theory."  
  
"Exactly," he said. Trip stared back up at the ceiling.  
  
"So...Trip?"  
  
He turned back to her. "Yeah?"  
  
"What do you suggest we do about it?"  
  
He turned his gaze back to the ceiling. "Well, since others are beginnin' to take notice of us, especially the Cap'n, we need to end it." It suddenly came to him. "I think the reason that you want to attribute this to lack of meditation is that you and I both need a reason to stop that doesn't come directly from someone else. We need to decide to end it on our own...an' get back that control we've had for the last five years."   
  
T'Pol mulled this over. She hadn't even thought about that. "Maybe subconsciously that's what we want," she suggested. "We both need to realize or make ourselves believe that if we go back to meditating, we might just lose the desire."   
  
"The lust, you mean," he corrected. "But whatever. Maybe we've just been channelin' our energies...differently. Replace that lust and desire with the control we've both displayed in the past," he shrugged. "It's all the same anyway, when you boil it down. We were both enjoyin' it." He turned to look at her. "I dunno 'bout you, but I lived for the moments that we made love."   
  
She looked at him then. "We were hardly 'making love'. We were..." Her voice trailed off, searching for the right words. Trip sighed heavily.  
  
"Fuckin'," he supplied. "The word you're lookin' for is 'fuckin'."  
  
"Fucking?"  
  
Trip's gaze fell from the ceiling to her. He smiled. "Yeah, it's an old human expression. Means havin' sex, usually devoid of anything other than lust."  
  
She nodded and looked back up to the ceiling. "Then I suppose it is an accurate description of our actions the past two weeks."  
  
"We're gonna self-destruct," stated Trip matter-of-factly. He looked at her, sadness in his eyes. "If we can't get that control back, we're both gonna get hurt, aren't we?"  
  
T'Pol thought for a moment. "I think it is possible to regain the healthier relationship prior to our sexual activity. With some work, of course."  
  
"You think we could just slip back to the way things were?" He snapped his fingers. "Just like that?"  
  
"Well no," she replied. "With proper daily meditation...and a little time...I believe we can. If we 'channel our energies differently', as you put it, it is possible that we could get back the peace we once had with one another," she replied. "If we continue this 'fucking' then we will indeed fall apart. I can only see a violent end to this turbulent exercise."   
  
"Turbulent exercise? I love when you talk dirty to me." Trip chuckled as she made a face. He continued, "Seriously, I don't wanna lose you, T'Pol." He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss. "If I have t'choose between givin' up sex or givin' up you, I'll ditch the sex. You deserve more than a quick bang against the bulkhead at lunchtime."  
  
T'Pol closed her eyes. "Thank you for your eloquence." She then rolled onto her side to face him, she said, "You won't regret it?"  
  
"Not one second," whispered Trip softly. "I don't regret anything about bein' with you." He leaned in and kissed her gently on the cheek.  
  
"I meant regret giving it up," said T'Pol.  
  
"Nah...I got two hands for the more base needs of my body. With you, I'd rather have things back the way they were than takin' a chance screwin' up the one decent relationship I have with a woman. Even if there's no sex involved."   
  
He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped for a second as if he was unsure. He closed his eyes and continued. "For what it's worth, T'Pol," he said, suddenly shy, "I do love ya. Always have.....as a friend, though." He opened his eyes to get her reaction. She looked at him, a thousand thoughts running through her head. Finally she said, "I know." T'Pol suddenly realized her nakedness. "I'm going to get dressed now. Perhaps you should do the same?"  
  
"Yeah," Trip sighed. "I suppose I should."   
  
They dressed together in silence. When they were done, each sized up the other. There was an awkward moment where neither knew whether a kiss, a hug or a handshake would be the proper way to end the evening. Trip tossed her a wink. T'Pol accepted it with a nod. She turned and walked out of his room. The door slid shut. It was over.  
  
To be continued...  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Author's Notes: We had to edit this chapter due to not being completely "R" rated material. If you'd like to read the unedited (that's right, NC17) version, it will be posted at the Pecan Pie Chronicles (http://fic_ship.tripod.com) when the story is complete. 


	3. Chapter 3

Malcolm Reed waved his hand in front of his dinner companion's face to get her attention. Hoshi had been transfixed with the Sub-Commander since she'd wandered into the mess hall a few minutes earlier. Malcolm had never before witnessed someone treat pouring a cup of tea as a spectator sport.   
  
"Hoshi, you haven't heard a bloody word I've said, have you?" he asked, exasperated.   
  
"I'm sorry, Malcolm," Hoshi whispered, blinking sweetly at him. "She just seems so different lately. Distracted even. It's not like T'Pol."   
  
"Not unlike someone else I know." The tactical officer reached across the table and patted Hoshi's arm. "You need to learn to tend to your own affairs, darling."   
  
"Darling?" she echoed with a smile, her attention back to him. "Where did you pick that up?"   
  
Malcolm smiled at her mischievously. "No doubt from Commander Tucker."   
  
"Trip calls you 'darling?'" said Hoshi playfully. "Interesting." She laughed as he couldn't help but blush. He'd always been so easy to fluster and Hoshi loved teasing him. Her attention was again turned to the Vulcan as she approached the next table.   
  
T'Pol was completely absorbed with a data pad in her hand. She absently set the mug of tea on the table and was about to sit when she teetered off balance slightly. Hoshi was instantly on her feet.   
  
"Sub-Commander, are you ok?" the communications officer asked.   
  
"I'm fine," said T'Pol, as she sunk into her chair. She didn't realize she was being watched. She gazed up at Hoshi with a slightly confused look. "There is no need to trouble yourself."   
  
Hoshi narrowed her eyes at T'Pol. "You certainly don't look fine. Maybe you should go to Sickbay."   
  
The Vulcan cocked her head and replied, "I can assure you, Ensign, I'm fine. I am not in need of medical assistance." She took a sip of tea. "I'm just tired."   
  
Malcolm had stepped over to the two women. "Please don't take this the wrong way, T'Pol, but you haven't looked yourself lately. Are you sure you haven't come down with...anything?"   
  
"I appreciate your concern," said T'Pol, "but I am fine. Perhaps I should return to my quarters now and get some much needed rest."   
  
As she rose from her chair, she closed her eyes as a wave of vertigo swept over her. T'Pol barely caught herself on the edge of the table. Malcolm was at her side, helping her back into her chair.   
  
"That does it," he said, "you're going to Sickbay."   
  
"Wait," T'Pol replied, still not opening her eyes. "I just need a minute."   
  
"Out of the question," he replied. He moved towards the comm.   
  
"Please," T'Pol held up her hand. She glanced up at him and sighed. She took a deep breath and gestured for her two curious crewmates to sit. "Not that this matter is your business but if offering an answer will let me enjoy my tea, I will explain." She paused for a moment. "Just over a month ago, I experimented with a reduced meditation schedule. I thought that perhaps I would try other non-Vulcan means of relaxation." She did not elaborate.   
  
"Why in the heavens would you do that?" Malcolm asked. Hoshi elbowed him. Backpedaling, he rephrased, "I mean, don't Vulcans rely heavily on meditation? I hope everything is alright."   
  
"Yes Lieutenant Reed, everything is alright." She continued. "Unfortunately ceasing my regular meditations was not the best idea. I became increasingly distracted and my performance on the ship became diminished. I have since returned to a more consistent meditation regimen but it seems that the time missed has been hard to make up. I will be back to 'normal' soon enough. I do not require a trip to Sickbay."   
  
"That would explain why you've been so distracted of late," noted Hoshi. At the Vulcan's raised eyebrow she added, "I've noticed on the Bridge lately you seemed to be staring off into space." She realized how odd that sounded considering their mission. "Well, space in an abstract sense," she continued nervously. "I've never seen you do that before. We were just concerned is all." She stopped and looked uncomfortable.   
  
"We don't mean to pry, Sub-Commander," Malcolm apologized. He lowered his eyes and absently chewed his bottom lip.   
  
"It's alright," said T'Pol with a slight sigh. "I do appreciate your concern. I think I'm feeling better now. I'm going to return to my quarters." With that, she rose again and stopped. Sweat beads appeared on her forehead. Her eyelids drooped. Her hands began to shake. She appeared on the verge of collapse.   
  
Malcolm again swooped to her side and she leaned into him. "Okay T'Pol, I'm not taking no for an answer this time," he commanded.   
  
"No," T'Pol insisted. "I'll be fine. Just give me a moment....."   
  
"Like hell," growled Malcolm. He nodded at Hoshi and she bolted to the comm. unit on the wall.   
  
"Hoshi to Dr. Phlox," she spoke into it.   
  
After a moment, "Phlox here."   
  
"We need you in the Mess right away. T'Pol is ill."   
  
"On my way," he replied hurriedly.  
  
  
  
T'Pol sat perched on the edge of the biobed. Dr. Phlox had shooed Malcolm and Hoshi out of Sickbay almost as soon as they'd arrived. He'd assured them that the Sub-Commander would be fine with the help of a sleep aid.  
  
"Is there any particular reason you had decreased your meditation time, Sub- Commander?" Phlox asked bluntly as he scanned her. Hoshi and Malcolm had filled him in on the way. If he was going to be thorough, he'd have to be somewhat invasive.  
  
"I had my reasons, Doctor." "I wouldn't recommend this in the future. Your experiment has put a lot of stress on your body," he said. "It was a very dangerous thing you attempted."  
  
T'Pol closed her eyes against his impending lecture. "It is a moot point, Doctor. I have resumed my usual schedule."  
  
Phlox smiled politely at the Vulcan. "I trust Commander Tucker has resumed his own meditations as well?" At her icy glare he continued. "Yes, I have noticed changes in Mr. Tucker too. He has not come to sickbay for any reason but I have noticed that he had been acting differently lately." T'Pol's glare turned to a dark scowl. Phlox continued, "it would probably be easier for you both to deal with one another without the heightened emotions. It's amazing the change in him since he's been meditating with you.....at least until a few weeks ago."  
  
T'Pol did not try to hide her displeasure. "What is your point?"  
  
"I'm a doctor, Sub-Commander. These scans indicate a much higher level of hormones secreted in the past few weeks." He looked directly at her. "Not that it is any of my business but you have been engaging in sexual activity, have you not?"  
  
The Vulcan glared at the doctor as she spoke, "You're correct. It's none of your business." He merely smiled at her, waiting.  
  
She looked away momentarily before answering. "But if you must know, I have engaged in some sexual activity although I fail to see the relevance of my personal activities. And I also do not appreciate your insinuations about myself and Mr. Tucker."  
  
The doctor shuffled over to a counter and prepared a hypospray. He momentarily turned to face her. "I am not here to judge you, Sub-Commander, nor anyone else on the ship. I am only here to assist you with your medical needs. Your sexual activity or lack thereof is not of my concern unless it directly affects your health. Or the health of others on board." He turned back to continue his work.  
  
"I appreciate that Doctor," replied T'Pol. She was still smarting but it seemed that her and Commander Tucker's decision was a logical one.  
  
Phlox continued, "Your lack of meditation has no doubt allowed your more basic instincts to take over. In effect, you've run yourself down to a complete exhaustion. If you wish to continue your sexual activity, you must find a more stable balance." He waited.  
  
"That won't be necessary," stated T'Pol. "I have ceased the physical encounters permanently. It was not...healthy."  
  
Phlox approached her with the sleep aid and injected it into her neck. "On the contrary, Sub-Commander. Sexual activity is quite healthy for two adults, Human or Vulcan. But for you, the decrease in your meditation appears to have caused your problem. If you say things are over then I wouldn't expect to see you in here again with similar symptoms. I will continue to go over your vitals but I think with a little bed rest you should be good as new in a few days." He smiled.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor," she said through clenched teeth. T'Pol slid off the bed and headed for the door.  
  
  
  
The doors to her quarters swished open to reveal several meditation candles already lit and a certain engineer already seated at the low table. He opened his eyes and smiled at her in greeting. T'Pol raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey," Trip said softly. "Where've you been? I've been sittin' here for over an hour."  
  
"I didn't realize we had a date," replied T'Pol, arms folded across her chest. There was the slightest edge to her tone.  
  
Trip picked up on it immediately and his smile faded. "Sorry," he said, scowling slightly. "Thought we were gonna get back to normal and normal is meditatin' together." He rose from the pillows and started towards the door. "I guess I'll leave then."  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment and stepped to block his path. "That is unnecessary. I apologize." T'Pol looked up at him, concern stretched across his features.  
  
"What's goin' on, T'Pol?"  
  
"I just came from Sickbay," she said quietly.  
  
"What? Why?" Trip grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Is everything ok? What happened?"  
  
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at his reaction. She regretted using the word 'Sickbay.' She sighed, absently placed a hand on his chest and carried on with her explanation. "I felt light-headed and went to see the doctor." She made a face and added, "at the insistence of Mr. Reed and Ensign Sato. It seems that my system had an adverse effect to the lack of mental stability. I was physically weakened and with the cessation of our sexual activity, it 'caught up to me.'"  
  
Trip narrowed his eyes at her. T'Pol noted a twinkle of mischief. "Need a little boost?" he asked seductively, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. If she wasn't so tired, she surmised this might have tempted her.  
  
"No," replied T'Pol firmly. "The last thing I need is another distraction." She wiggled her way out of his embrace as he sighed heavily.  
  
"Alright, alright," Trip relented. "Come on, sit down." He sat on one of the pillows again and patted the other with his hand. "I'm sorry. My body's a bit slow on the uptake. Even though it's been a while, it still hasn't quite tamped down the urges." He glanced at his lap and rolled his eyes at himself in mild disgust.  
  
As T'Pol joined him on the pillows, she arched another eyebrow at his offending member bulging slightly more now than when she first walked in. She looked back at his face where he was smiling sheepishly, a blush creeping into his cheeks. Trip just shrugged and said, "It'll go away...eventually."  
  
"Indeed," was all she said. T'Pol closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her health, not the man sitting next to her. Meditations the last day or so were not as easy as she expected them to be. It took far more focus and concentration than it ever used to. However, within minutes both participants were deep in their own minds.  
  
Trip wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting there, but the candles were considerably lower when he opened his eyes. T'Pol was stretched out across the pillows. She had her head in his lap and she was sound asleep. He didn't recall her doing that. He must have really been out of it. Trip looked down at her and reached a hand to her face. He gently caressed one cheek and smiled. Like a little elf he thought warmly.  
  
He hated to wake her, but he didn't relish the thought of spending the night on the floor either. And he didn't really want to leave her there on the floor. She'd probably wake up with one hell of a backache. Trip decided to just carry her to bed. If she woke up, oh well. He'd apologize when and if that happened.  
  
Trying not to jar T'Pol too badly, Trip gently worked his way out from under her. He stood and stretched, listening to his joints crack and roll. He dropped to one knee and carefully hoisted the slumbering Vulcan into his arms and carried her to her bed.  
  
As he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders, she only muttered a few words in her native tongue, sighed and was quiet again. Trip smiled and bent down to brush a quick kiss across her cheek.  
  
"Sweet dreams, darlin'," he whispered and then he was gone.  
  
  
  
TBC... 


	4. Chapter 4

T'Pol had left dinner with Captain Archer and Commander Tucker early a couple nights later. She was hoping that the fatigue would pass after a few good nights' sleep. It hadn't. The captain had asked if everything was all right after noticing her drooping eyelids.  
  
"I'm fine, sir," she'd replied. "If it's alright with you, I'll return to my quarters."  
  
The men had risen from their seats in a gentlemanly fashion. Archer nodded, concern stretched across his features. Trip was no less concerned, but didn't want to make any more of it than she did, at least not in front of their commanding officer.  
  
"I'll be by in a bit," he'd said. "If you're up for our meditation an' all." He said that more for Archer's benefit than hers. She merely nodded and left the Executive mess.  
  
On her way to her cabin, T'Pol actually entertained the thought of detouring to Sickbay. She was not in the mood, however, for one of Dr. Phlox's lectures on her health. She made a mental note to take more vitamins and get more sleep. Whatever she'd come down with was obviously affecting only her. T'Pol surmised it was something to do with her Vulcan immune system combined with her diminished meditation. She decided to see the doctor first thing in the morning, before her shift on the bridge began.  
  
After changing into her meditation outfit, T'Pol lit the candles on the table. Commander Tucker would be arriving soon for their session. As if on cue, the chime to her door sounded.  
  
"Come!" she called out. T'Pol idly wondered why he would be ringing the buzzer instead of knocking. He had the code for her quarters and had been using that for years.  
  
It was not the man she expected it to be. Standing in her doorway was Doctor Phlox. He wore a smile, though it looked to the Vulcan to be forced.  
  
"Good evening, Sub-Commander," he greeted her politely.  
  
T'Pol rose from the meditation table and nodded once. "Good evening, Doctor. What can I do for you?"  
  
"I was just passing by," Phlox said, his eyes darting about the small room. "Thought I'd stop in and see how you were feeling."  
  
"I'm still tired but otherwise fine," said T'Pol. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "You are not known for making house calls, Doctor. Is everything alright?"  
  
He seemed momentarily distracted but quickly came back to his focus. "I've been monitoring your vitals, as you know. I've found something...interesting," said the physician. He took a step in and waited for her permission to elaborate. Before Phlox could utter another word, the doors to T'Pol's cabin swooshed open again.  
  
Commander Tucker took one step inside and stopped, clearly not expecting to see the doctor there. "Doc," he said by way of tentative greeting. Trip looked from Phlox to T'Pol. "Am I interruptin' somethin'?"  
  
Dr. Phlox looked to T'Pol. She nodded and said, "Whatever you have to tell me, Doctor, can be said in Commander Tucker's presence." She looked at Trip then back to Phlox. "Please continue."  
  
"Very well," said Phlox with a nod of his own. "You might want to take a seat. As I said, I've been monitoring your vitals, Sub-Commander. I found something out of the ordinary this morning. After further review, I have determined a cause for your...fatigue."  
  
"Some kind of Vulcan flu?" asked Trip. He had made his way to the bed and sat down, nervously wringing his hands together.  
  
Phlox shook his head, a sympathetic smile played on his lips. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Mr. Tucker." He paused, unsure of how to proceed.  
  
"Doctor," said T'Pol, moving towards the bed and sitting down next to Trip. "What is it?" They both knew it was something serious. Trip unconsciously reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers, waiting.  
  
"It seems we have ourselves a bit of a miracle on our hands," said the Denobulan. He tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. At the Human and Vulcan's raised eyebrows, Phlox continued. "Sub-Commander T'Pol, my findings indicate that you are pregnant."  
  
The silence that filled the room was deafening. The two commanders merely blinked at Dr. Phlox. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, waiting for a response or a reaction of any kind. Finally it was Trip that broke the silence.  
  
"Beg your pardon, Doc?" He said it in much the same way when Phlox delivered the news of Commander Tucker's own 'pregnancy.'  
  
"There must be some mistake," said T'Pol. "It is not possible."  
  
They both sat on the bed, clutching each other's hands tightly. Their eyes were wide, faces pale. They sat waiting for what must surely be the punch line to some Denobulan joke.  
  
"I can assure you, Sub-Commander, there is no mistake," Phlox replied gravely. "I ran test after test and each one had the same result. It apparently is quite possible as you've successfully conceived the first known Human-Vulcan hybrid child. However, I'm not certain if I should congratulate the two of you or not."  
  
"Successfully?" Trip echoed, his reaction was somewhat delayed. "You mean *accidentally*."  
  
"An accidental success," Phlox compromised. He wrung his hands nervously. "You need to make a decision, Commanders. Since we have no data for prior pregnancies such as this one, it will be up to us to write the book." After seeing Trip's eyes widen in shock, he quickly added, "so to speak."  
  
"I didn't think it was possible," T'Pol repeated absently. Trip shook his head slowly, staring at his knees.  
  
"I'll have to monitor you closely, Sub-Commander, should you choose to keep the child," advised Phlox. His hands couldn't seem to find a place to rest as they settled on his stomach, then behind his back, then on his hips. The normally jovial doctor couldn't quite get the nerve up to look at the not so happy couple.  
  
T'Pol rose from the bed and strode towards the Denobulan. "I think Commander Tucker and I need to discuss this in private, Doctor."  
  
"Of course," he agreed. "As you know, I'll be in Sickbay. Please don't hesitate to contact me if there are any questions or concerns."  
  
"Yes, Doctor," said T'Pol. She looked back at Trip. He had leaned forward, his head in his hands.  
  
"Sub-Commander?" said Phlox. "I do not wish to burden you further but I suggest you make your decision in a timely fashion. We don't know anything about such an event, or how this will affect your body." He was being delicate, but Phlox figured the Vulcan would understand his meaning.  
  
She merely nodded and walked towards the door. "I will come by Sickbay in the morning."  
  
"That would be lovely," replied Phlox with another forced smile. "Good evening, Commanders." He turned and left.  
  
The door whooshed shut but T'Pol remained standing there, her head resting heavily against the bulkhead. She slowly turned around and faced the small room. Trip still sat on the bed, hands on his knees. His spine was rigid and he was staring at the candles across the room with a blank expression on his face.  
  
For Trip, the reality of the situation was finally sinking in. They were two of the top ranking officers on board Starfleet's finest ship and they were expecting a child. It would no doubt interfere in the operation of Enterprise as well as day-to-day command. The Vulcan High Command would have a field day with this, thought Trip. They'd castrate every male in Starfleet to ensure there would be no more 'accidents.'  
  
He finally looked up at T'Pol. She looked as frightened as he felt. She just stood there, staring absently and Trip could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Clearly neither one of them had thought that there was even a remote possibility that this could happen. Trip knew he'd certainly have been more careful if he thought he could impregnate his Vulcan lover. Now they would have to deal with the consequences. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. And with that confusion came panic.  
  
"How'd this even happen?" asked Trip quietly.  
  
T'Pol continued to stare off absently. "I don't think I need to explain human biology to you, do I?"  
  
Under normal circumstances, this sort of response might have started off a war of words. Trip's only response was to shake his head. "No, no ya don't." After a moment, he continued. "Maybe what I should say is how did a Human get a Vulcan pregnant?"   
  
T'Pol's eyes came back to focus as she glanced at him. "I don't know," was all she said.  
  
"An' you had no idea?" he asked.  
  
"None," said T'Pol softly. "I am just as shocked as you are, Trip."  
  
"Well, how could you've not known you're pregnant? Weren't there any warnin' signs or somethin'? You didn't skip a period or anythin'?" He was desperate for answers.  
  
"A period?" she asked, her brow furrowed.  
  
"Yeah, you know...menstrual cycle?"  
  
"Of course," replied T'Pol, remembering her human biology lessons. "Vulcan females do not menstruate in an evolutionary attempt at conserving water. The egg, once released and not fertilized, gets reabsorbed back into the uterine walls without the loss of fluids."  
  
Trip stared at her. "Great," he muttered. He got up from the bed, hands on his hips, and began to pace the small room. "And you had no idea Human sperm was compatible with Vulcan eggs?"  
  
She glared at him. "You're implying this is my fault," she said, somewhat icily now. "You are just as responsible for this event as I am. As I told Doctor Phlox, I did not think it was possible."  
  
"I know it's not your fault!" he snapped. Trip stopped pacing and sighed. "Look, I'm just a bit shaken by all this."  
  
"We both are, Trip," T'Pol replied firmly. She was staring out the portal. "We need to discuss our options."  
  
Trip stared at the Vulcan. "Our options?"  
  
"Yes, whether we want to keep this child or terminate the pregnancy," she said matter-of-factly. T'Pol still wouldn't look at him.  
  
His mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. Trip sat heavily on the bed again, his head resting solidly in his hands. "Ah, Christ," he muttered.  
  
He finally nodded and looked up at T'Pol. She turned and met his gaze. She crossed to the bed and sat next to him. Trip grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.  
  
"Whatever decision we make, it will not be easy," she whispered.  
  
Trip threw an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to him for a quick hug. "I know, darlin'," he said softly. "I know."  
  
TBC... 


	5. Chapter 5

"What?!" Trip yelled. He stopped his nervous pacing and spun around to face T'Pol.  
  
"I think you heard me. It is the logical decision," she said. Her gaze locked solidly with Trip's.  
  
"You wanna terminate the pregnancy? Just like that? How very Vulcan of you, T'Pol," he spat. "A typically cold and calculating decision," he muttered. Trip glared at her for a moment longer and continued pacing the small room.  
  
T'Pol narrowed her eyes at him. "I can think of many more reasons *not* to have this child, Commander. Would you like me to give you a few?"  
  
"Oh, so we're back to titles now? What're you gonna do, pull rank on me? Order me to accept that I can't have a say in this?" Trip was seething. "This is just as much my kid as it is yours, which means I got an equal say in the matter! An' I think we should keep it! It's *our* child, T'Pol!"  
  
T'Pol looked up at him, anger and frustration clouded her eyes. "What kind of life would our child have?" she asked quietly. "Half human, half Vulcan, torn between two cultures who couldn't be more different. An outcast in both societies, struggling to maintain some sort of identity."  
  
"Why're you so goddamn pessimistic about this?" Trip countered. "Did y'ever think that maybe our kid would adjust and adapt just fine?? Be the best of both worlds? As parents, we could give our kid the self-confidence to hold his head high an' be proud of who he is!"  
  
They both stood and glared at each other. Neither spoke for more than a minute. Finally Trip spoke. "You've already made up your mind, haven't you? Without even discussin' it?"  
  
"I don't see what there is to discuss," she paused, "Trip."  
  
He stared at her incredulously. "Hell, T'Pol, there's a lot to discuss! For starters, how about my side of the coin? Say we decided to keep the child. Don't you think we'd make good parents?"  
  
T'Pol blankly stared back at Trip. "What sort of parents could we be? It's a moot point. We couldn't possibly care for a child out here."  
  
Trip gave her a small smile. "Says who? C'mon T'Pol. At least think about it for a sec. Humor me, alright?"  
  
T'Pol frowned. "Very well." She sat down on her bed and closed her eyes.  
  
Trip paced for a bit. "Okay," he said, "what do you think?"  
  
T'Pol opened her eyes and stared at him. "Perhaps if you gave me more than a minute, I could better answer your question," T'Pol responded.  
  
"Oh...right," said Trip sheepishly, "I'll be in there." He motioned to her bathroom.  
  
He went to the sink and splashed some water on his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he dried himself. Was he crazy? Crazy to even entertain the thought that they could raise a child? Let alone out in space?  
  
His initial reaction, as demonstrated in his many debates with T'Pol, was to take the opposite side. Sometimes he did it to needle her even if he knew she was right. Other times he enjoyed just starting arguments because she was a very good sparring partner. This was obviously different and beyond anything they had ever disagreed over in the past. This was their child.  
  
When Phlox first told them that something was wrong with T'Pol, he feared for the worst. He had truly grown to love T'Pol over the past few years and losing her would devastate him. Once he knew it was not life threatening, he had given a sigh of relief. Of course, the gut shot that followed was unbelievable.  
  
T'Pol was pregnant. With a child...their child. It was unreal. Surreal even. Because of their difference in species, Trip had never considered T'Pol getting pregnant. He was fairly sure that T'Pol would not have thought it possible either. No, he was sure of that. She would never deceive him.  
  
He closed his eyes. His mind was racing and he needed to slow it down. As long as he could talk to T'Pol about this, as long as they could make the decision together, he'd feel much better.  
  
Trip knew how he felt and he unfortunately knew how she felt as well. He wanted to keep the child and she wanted to terminate it. Both, he believed, were knee jerk reactions but unlike other situations, there was only a black or white answer, no gray. He hoped she'd listen to reason and at least discuss this with him but she seemed pretty set in her ways. Damn.  
  
Of course there were other factors to consider as well. The Vulcan Council, Starfleet Command, and Captain Archer were the immediate ones that came to mind. Maybe this was not the right decision? Aw hell. How had things become so complicated?  
  
"Trip?" T'Pol said. She snapped her fingers to get his attention. "Trip?"  
  
He jumped slightly. "Yeah?" In addition to his mind, his pulse was now racing too.  
  
"I'm ready to talk."  
  
***  
  
He wanted to keep it? But how? T'Pol sat at the foot of her bed deep in thought. How could they possibly bring this child to term and raise it on a starship? What would the Vulcan Council think? What would Starfleet think? What would the Captain think? Her eyes snapped open and she looked around the room. Trip had retired to the bathroom to presumably collect his thoughts and she was alone. But not really...she was now with child. Their child. She closed her eyes again and tried to focus on the issue at hand, the welfare of their unborn child.  
  
T'Pol had not thought it possible, conceiving a child with a human. If she had any idea this was possible, she would have taken precautions or made Trip do the same. Their relationship was already complicated enough without a third party making it more difficult. She had thought that third party was Captain Archer but evidently he was just a proverbial bump in the road. Things had become far worse because the third party now was an unborn child. What they had thought was over was really just beginning.  
  
She had told Trip how she felt. They could not possibly allow this child to come into the world. Between the political nightmares and the possible demise of the mission, she was also simply not ready to be a mother. And Trip was certainly not ready to be a father. Or were they?  
  
T'Pol pondered this further. Trip Tucker was a good man, she thought. He would probably make an excellent father. Perhaps she would make a good mother as well. She could not believe that she was actually allowing herself to have these thoughts. What had been a definite decision a few minutes ago was now an uncertain one. Trip was right. She did need time to think about this. And she now wanted to hear his side as well. What was it about this human that made her do the things she did?  
  
She opened her eyes and sighed. She got up off the bed and walked to the bathroom.  
  
"Trip?" T'Pol said. She snapped her fingers a couple of times to get his attention. "Trip?"  
  
She saw him jump slightly. "Yeah?"  
  
T'Pol's face flushed and she took a deep breath. "I'm ready to talk."  
  
***  
  
Trip and T'Pol made their way back towards the bed. T'Pol sat first and patted the spot next to her indicating that Trip should sit as well. She took his hand and began to speak.  
  
"Trip, I took some time to think about it and..." she stopped herself short to make sure that she wanted to continue this sentence.  
  
Trip placed his other hand over hers and looked into her eyes. "And what, T'Pol?"  
  
T'Pol looked back at him and continued, "You're right, we need to discuss this further before we make a decision."  
  
"Thank you," said Trip with a sigh of relief. "Thank you very much." He blinked back a tear.  
  
T'Pol squeezed his hand. "I think you would make an excellent father. I even think that I might be a good mother."  
  
"A great mother," he corrected. "Don't sell yourself short here."  
  
"Thank you." She closed her eyes. "I feel that it is just not the right time." She turned away. "I think we could consider this in the future but just not now. There are too many outside factors."  
  
"So, lemme get this straight, if I get what you're sayin', you would consider havin' a child with me if the circumstances were different?"  
  
T'Pol pondered that for a minute. He *was* a good man. He made her feel different about herself. He had touched her in ways no one ever had, both figuratively and literally. She could see a future for them in some manner. Perhaps even one that included a family. This was just not the time though.  
  
T'Pol spoke. "Yes, I suppose that I would consider that. If the circumstances were optimal."  
  
Trip had a small smile playing on the edges of his mouth. "And if those circumstances were say, less than optimal, the answer would be no?"  
  
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"  
  
"Answer the question."  
  
T'Pol arched a brow at him.  
  
Trip sighed. His smile disappeared. "I'm tryin' to make a point is all."  
  
T'Pol considered that. "What would you consider less than optimal?"  
  
"That's what I'm tryin' to say here. When would things ever be right for us? When we get back home after the mission? There's gonna be more interference there than out here."  
  
T'Pol knew he was right. "Yes, that is true."  
  
Trip pressed on. "Out here is bad too because you say we could never care for a child in space. And there are issues out here as well, safety bein' number one. No matter where we raise this kid, we'll all be outcasts, whether it's on Earth, Vulcan or any alien world we choose to exile ourselves on."  
  
T'Pol cocked her head to the side. "I know where you're going with this." She now knew why he was beginning to smile. "You're trying to tell me that there will never be an optimal time or place for us to have a child."  
  
The smile began to grace his face again. "Exactly."  
  
She continued, "And that since I am already pregnant, this may already be the optimal time."  
  
"I can't pull one over on ya, can I? I never could."  
  
T'Pol looked back at Trip and sighed heavily. "Trip, I just do not think it's possible. We can't do this. Not now. Not here. Maybe one day. I just don't know."  
  
"T'Pol," Trip pleaded, "T'Pol, listen to me. We can do this. We can. It is possible. I love you."  
  
T'Pol looked at Trip. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said I love you. And I want you to have my child. I don't want this to slip away."  
  
T'Pol's face went white. "I love you too, Trip." She kissed him softly on the lips. "But I need a little more time to think about this."  
  
"I understand. I understand completely." Trip kissed her again and put his arms around her. He drew her close and buried his face in her shoulder.  
  
T'Pol hugged him back while absently stroking his hair. She felt better now that Trip had said his peace but it was going to make her decision a lot harder. It was not his fault though. It seemed that fate had dealt them a tough hand. She knew where Trip stood but still had no idea whether she'd be standing next to him or across from him when all was said and done.  
  
"Trip," she said.  
  
"Yes, darlin'?" Trip raised his head.  
  
"I need some time alone. I'm sorry. I need to think this through by myself for a while."  
  
"Okay. S'ok. I'll see you in the morning then?" He untangled himself from her.  
  
"Yes." T'Pol wrapped her arms around herself.  
  
Trip rose from the bed and looked down at the woman carrying his child. This should have been such a happy time for them. Not a time filled with doubt, sadness and fear. He lifted her chin, kissed her on the cheek and took his leave.  
  
T'Pol allowed herself to fall back onto the bed. She had quite a decision to make. She closed her eyes searching for an answer but all she had were questions. Curling into a fetal position, she opened her eyes searching for an escape and felt trapped by her quarters. She held herself tighter and began to do something decidedly un-Vulcan: she cried herself to sleep.  
  
*****  
  
Morning came and T'Pol sat on the edge of her bed contemplating her decision. It had been difficult but she felt that she made the right choice. Shortly after crying herself to sleep, she woke up and had stared at the ceiling for a while. In the back of her mind, she had entertained the notion that if the ceiling fell on her, she would not have to make the most difficult decision of her life. As T'Pol contemplated that thought, a revelation came to her. She was not really living.   
  
Trip had always chided her for her reliance on logic and her inability to take a chance. Perhaps it was his insistence or a desire to prove him wrong but she had taken a chance on him. She had grown to enjoy having Trip as a friend and had more recently grown to enjoy him as a lover. In both instances, she had taken that leap of faith and added an element of chance that she sorely lacked in her life.   
  
In the past, when T'Pol had thought of acting on impulse, she always held back. She always relied on logic and reason to carry her through. That was fine if you wanted to survive but not if you really wanted to live.   
  
Trip had helped her truly live, to feel alive, and now she was determined to return the favor. He had opened her eyes to many things over the past few years and she was going to thank him for that. She was going to have his child and to hell with the consequences. She loved Trip and wanted to have his child...their child.   
  
T'Pol rose from her bed, dressed for duty, and headed for sickbay. She needed to have a talk with Dr. Phlox.  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Trip had barely slept that night. He had tossed and turned, worried about what T'Pol's decision might be. He was thankful that she had offered him a chance to present his side. He wasn't quite sure if that was even going to happen at first. Even if the answer was no, at least he said what needed to be said. Even though he was expecting it, he didn't know what he would do if she said no. The knot in his belly kept twisting up, his nerves shot to hell. Finally deciding to get his day started, he dragged himself out of bed and to the shower.  
  
As he scraped the razor across his jaw, Trip wondered if he'd ever get the chance to show his kid how to do this. Assuming they had a son. Assuming T'Pol wanted to keep the baby. "Dammit all ta' hell," he muttered as he cut his chin. This was killing him. Trip had to know.  
  
He quickly finished up in the bathroom and threw on his uniform. Instead of heading to the mess for breakfast, Trip figured he'd swing by T'Pol's quarters instead. He'd given her ample time to make a decision, right? Was one night long enough to make a life-altering decision like this? Probably not he figured, but he was hoping she had made some sort of progress. Anything would be good now.  
  
His zipper caught and he cursed aloud. As he tried to free it, he felt himself getting antsier. He was certain he'd not make it another hour without knowing her decision.  
  
The chime on his door went off. Trip finally freed the snag, paused mid-zip and called out, "Come in!"  
  
T'Pol stood in the doorway, cautiously peeking in. "Good morning."  
  
"Hey there," Trip greeted. "I was jus'...ah...comin' to see you." He stepped into the center of his room. T'Pol met him halfway. "How you feelin'?" he asked.  
  
"I'm...well," she replied. She looked into his face. His eyes were pleading with the unasked question.  
  
"So uh, did you have time to think about things?" Trip asked. He was absently kicking a small spot of nothing on the floor.  
  
"Yes, I did." T'Pol was her usual stoic self.  
  
Trip didn't like the tone of her voice. "And...? What did you decide?" Trip was about to burst at the seams.  
  
T'Pol continued. "I'm on my way to see Doctor Phlox. I thought you'd like to join me. I think it's wise that you be there with me to tell him of our decision to keep this child."  
  
Trip froze. He wasn't exactly ready for that answer. His face ran a gamut of emotions. He finally settled on a huge grin and lunged towards T'Pol. "Trip?" T'Pol barely had a chance to spit out the word as he picked her up and spun her around twice.  
  
"That's great!" Trip sounded positively jubilant. "Thank god, T'Pol!! Thank you, thank you, thank YOU!!" He began to pepper her face and neck with kisses. She struggled free of his bear-like hold.  
  
"Commander," said T'Pol with a huff. "I do not think it's a good idea for you to be hurling me around in my present condition."  
  
"Uh, right," muttered Trip, the smile not waning for an instant. "Sorry. I'm jus' so damn happy right now."  
  
He released her and almost out of habit, T'Pol smoothed the sides of her uniform. "Shall we go see Dr. Phlox now?"  
  
"I would like nothin' better," Trip replied.  
  
** ** ** **  
  
Trip couldn't wipe the grin off his face if he tried. As he and T'Pol strode into Sickbay, he noticed the Denobulan in the corner feeding a plant.  
  
"Doc?" Trip called out.  
  
Phlox turned around and smiled tentatively. "Good morning Commanders. You're both up early this morning." He took note of the expression on Commander Tucker's face. "Am I to assume a decision has been made?"  
  
"Yes," said T'Pol while looking at Trip. "We've decided to continue on with the pregnancy."  
  
At Trip's enthusiastic nodding, Phlox replied, "So I gathered, Sub- Commander. Excellent!" He clapped his hands together once. "Why don't you two have a seat. There are some things I'd like to go over with the prospective parents."  
  
For the next hour or so Phlox explained the inherent risks involved, prenatal care, and his desire to monitor T'Pol closely. He made no effort to hide his exuberance about this pregnancy and was quite possibly more excited than Trip. The good doctor made T'Pol promise to see him on a daily basis to monitor the progress of the fetus. He gave her special dietary instructions and a modified exercise program. He also reminded her to continue her daily meditations as well. Phlox encouraged Trip to participate in these as a sign of unity.  
  
At the end of the consultation, the two commanders thanked the doctor and made their way to the exit.  
  
"Commanders?" Phlox called out.  
  
"Yes, Doctor?" T'Pol answered for them both.  
  
"I was just wondering when you were planning on telling Captain Archer about the pregnancy."  
  
Trip and T'Pol looked at one another. "Well," began Trip, "we haven't told the Cap'n yet."   
  
"I think that is fairly evident already," responded Phlox perhaps a bit too cheerily. "You do realize you must tell him eventually. I think he might notice if T'Pol suddenly began gaining weight in one particular area."   
  
"We will tell him, Doctor," said T'Pol. She paused momentarily to look at Trip. "We are waiting for the proper moment."   
  
"Very well," said Phlox. "I'll see you both later this evening."   
  
T'Pol and Trip turned back towards the exit and headed off to their duties.  
  
** ** ** **  
  
For the next few days Trip found himself unable and unwilling to stop smiling. His Engineering crew was beyond curious, but no one uttered a word for fear it would break whatever spell their C.O. was under. Trip whistled to himself, told jokes to his crew, and even sent them on extra breaks. For a man with such a huge secret, he didn't seem to be hiding it very well.  
  
He and T'Pol would meet in Sickbay every evening for check-ups after dinner. Phlox would run his tests, verify diets and exercise and remind them to tell the Captain of their situation. Then the two soon-to-be parents would retire to quarters and meditate for the rest of the evening. Trip had all but moved into T'Pol's quarters and had taken up the recent habit of rubbing her tummy while they lay in bed. T'Pol wasn't overly fond of the constant, almost obsessive attention Trip lavished upon her, but she had decided it was a small price to pay. He was happy, she was happy, and all was going well.  
  
  
  
"I'm disappointed in both of you," chided Doctor Phlox. "You do realize that the longer you wait to tell Captain Archer, the more betrayed he will feel."  
  
Trip's response had all but been expected. "I know Doc but....."  
  
"But nothing Commander." Phlox's normally cheerful demeanor had taken a turn for the worse over the past few days. "My oath as a doctor prevents me from informing Captain Archer of Sub-Commander T'Pol's status. Neither of you share that same privilege and your reasons for not telling him become less and less plausible each day. They are motivated by fear."  
  
"Now jus' wait a second Doc," Trip cautioned.  
  
T'Pol put her hand on Trip's knee. "No Trip, Doctor Phlox is right. We do need to tell Captain Archer."  
  
"He's jus' worried about gettin' in trouble," spat Trip. He had earned his right to be blissful and didn't want that taken away from him just yet.  
  
"As should we," added T'Pol.  
  
Phlox waited for a moment before continuing. "If I am being curt with you, I am sorry. I am just trying to let you know that the longer you wait, the harder it will be for Captain Archer to accept your decision." His smile, albeit a little forced, returned to his face.  
  
"No Doc, I'm the one that should be sorry," said Trip. "I'm jus' kinda' enjoyin' things right now an' I have a feelin' the Cap'n is gonna toss a wet blanket on top of this."  
  
"That is entirely possible, Commander," replied Phlox. He stood up. "Well, I have said my peace. If you don't have any further questions, we're finished here for the evening."  
  
"Thanks Doc," said Trip. He continued, "We'll tell him tomorrow. At dinner. Right before dessert." He tossed a wink at T'Pol.  
  
"Very good Commanders. I'll see you here tomorrow night." Phlox nodded.  
  
T'Pol looked puzzled. "Trip, why would the Captain toss a wet blanket on the situation?"  
  
He shook his head. "Ah, it's jus' an expression is all. I'll explain it on the way back to your quarters."  
  
*** **** ****  
  
The next evening on their way to the Captain's Mess, Trip was a nervous wreck. He was not looking forward to telling Archer the recent development in his life. He was not altogether certain he knew what his best friend's reaction was going to be.  
  
Trip turned to T'Pol. "How do ya think he's gonna react?"  
  
T'Pol pondered that. "You know him a little better than I do. What do you think?"  
  
"Don't have a clue," Trip admitted. "He's not gonna be happy though."  
  
T'Pol nodded. She knew Trip and Archer had been friends for quite a number of years but didn't know exactly how close the two men still were. She had noticed over time that when the Captain had a personal problem, the person he would go to was Trip. Trip had done the same before he became closer to T'Pol. She had often wondered if her friendship with Trip had driven a wedge between the two men. If that was the case, the news they were bringing to dinner would surely push her lover and her captain further apart.  
  
The doors swished open and Trip shoved aside his trepidation. Following T'Pol in, he smiled broadly at Captain Archer, who stood up from his place at the table.  
  
"Evenin', Cap'n!" Trip greeted.  
  
"Good evening, Captain," replied T'Pol.  
  
"Commanders," said Archer politely. He smiled at them in turn. Trip walked around to the other side of the table and watched as T'Pol took her seat first, then both men sat.  
  
Idle chitchat followed between Commander and Captain as dinner was served. They discussed the engines and agendas for the next week or so, the most recent sports scores and letters received from mutual friends from home. T'Pol, as she often did, sat quietly listening, picking slightly at her salad. She was not looking forward to dessert any more than Trip was. However, she did note the captain seemed to be in a particularly jovial mood. Perhaps that would soften the blow they were about to deliver.  
  
The steward came in all too soon to clear away the dinner dishes. Trip and T'Pol exchanged glances while Archer thanked the young man clearing his place.  
  
Trip took a deep breath and turned to Archer. "What's for dessert, Cap'n?"  
  
Before Archer could respond, a small gasp was heard at the table. Their attention was quickly turned towards T'Pol. She had pushed herself back from the table. She sat doubled over in her chair, her breathing coming in short, shallow gasps.  
  
"T'Pol?" Trip exclaimed. He jumped up and rushed around the table, grasping her gently by the shoulders. "T'Pol, what is it? Are you okay?"  
  
"What's going on, Trip?" Archer asked.  
  
Ignoring Jon for the moment, Trip focused on the Vulcan before him. The cords in her neck stood out as she clenched her teeth. Obviously T'Pol was in pain.  
  
"Can you stand up, darlin'?" he asked, throwing an arm around her waist. Trip tried to help her to her feet, but T'Pol just shook her head once. She looked up at him, fear and terror clear in her eyes. Sweat dripped from her brow. It scared the hell out of him.  
  
"Aw Christ," Trip swore under his breath. He quickly gathered T'Pol in his arms and headed to the door.  
  
"Trip!" Archer said. "What's going on? What's wrong with T'Pol?" He stared incredulously at the scene in front of him.  
  
"I'm takin' her to Sickbay, Cap'n!" Trip tossed over his shoulders and was out the door. Jon followed closely at his heels.  
  
TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

Trip tapped his foot impatiently as the lift slowed to a stop. Archer had just notified Dr. Phlox of the emergency. The doors to the lift whooshed open and Trip was off again, running towards Sickbay, Archer close behind.  
  
"DOC!" Trip cried as he hurried into the medical bay.  
  
Phlox was waiting and rushed towards the two commanders. "Place her here on this biobed, Commander," he ordered, running a scan over the Vulcan.  
  
Trip did as he was told, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from her forehead. T'Pol curled into the fetal position, softly groaning. Her eyes were shut tight against the pain as tears trickled down her temples.  
  
"T'Pol," whispered Trip, dropping a light kiss on the top of her head. "It's gonna be alright, hon. It'll be okay." He gently stroked her hair.  
  
"Hon?" said Archer aloud. "Trip?"  
  
"Not now, Cap'n," growled Trip.  
  
"Trip, what's going on?" Archer asked again, a little more firmly.  
  
"Not now, Jon." Trip's voice was strong but fearful.  
  
"Doc?" Archer was beginning to get worried.  
  
Phlox turned to Trip. "Have you informed the captain of your situation yet?"  
  
Archer looked at Trip. "Situation?"  
  
Trip looked uneasy. "No, not yet Doc."  
  
"Well perhaps this might be a good time to have that discussion with Captain Archer," suggested Phlox. He looked pointedly at Trip.  
  
The engineer blanched. "But Doc, T'Pol..."  
  
"Commander, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I need space to work," said Phlox calmly but with an urgent undertone. Trip looked up at him, a blank expression on his face. The doctor threw the captain a pleading glance.  
  
"C'mon, Trip," said Archer gently, "let's give the Doc some room." He grasped the younger man by the shoulders and steered him out of the way. Phlox quickly shut the curtain around the bed, closing the men out.  
  
Archer led the distraught Trip to a small recovery room off the main room. He sat Trip down in a nearby chair and watched his friend trying to maintain calm. Trip's gaze remained focused on the door, his eyes shining with unshed tears. His hands absently rubbed up and down his thighs.  
  
"Trip? What's going on?" said Archer softly.  
  
The engineer's gaze shifted to the man before him. "Jon," he choked. His hands stilled and Trip looked at Archer. "We were just about to tell you," Trip said hoarsely.  
  
Archer leaned forward and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Tell me what?"  
  
Trip waved a hand towards the door. "She's...T'Pol's pregnant," he whispered. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.  
  
"Pregnant?" Archer asked incredulously. He removed his hand from Trip's shoulder and sat down across from him. "T'Pol is pregnant?" He repeated the question aloud. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "How?"  
  
"Dunno," said Trip, shaking his head. "Well, obviously...we...you know..." Trip found it a little difficult to have this discussion with his Captain. He tried to divert the course of this conversation. "We didn't think it was possible."  
  
"I'm guessing you know it's possible now. Obviously you've underestimated the wonders of biology," Archer said coolly. "How long?"  
  
Trip looked puzzled. "Huh?" He was still somewhat dazed.  
  
"How long have you known she was pregnant?" Archer's tone changed slightly.  
  
"We jus' found out a few days ago," Trip replied. "We were gonna tell you, honest." He sniffed back a tear.  
  
"How...how did you find out?" Archer asked quietly.  
  
"Doc was runnin' some scans on her when she wasn't feelin' well, I guess."  
  
Archer stopped him. "So Doctor Phlox knew as well? I guess that explains him reminding you to discuss this with me. This situation." He spit the last word out like it was burning his tongue. He was getting madder by the minute.  
  
"Like I said," Trip replied, "he was runnin' some tests." He didn't like where this was going.  
  
"And he found out she was pregnant." Archer got up from his chair and took a defensive stance. "And he didn't tell me."  
  
"It's doctor-patient confidentiality. It'd be unethical for him to talk to you about a patient without their consent, Jon. You know that."  
  
"But I'm the captain, Trip. Something like this directly affects everyone on this ship." Archer looked indignant. "My ship."  
  
Archer stood in silence, staring at his friend. After a few minutes, Trip noticed that Archer wasn't saying anything. "Jon?"  
  
"How long, Trip?"  
  
"I jus' told ya, Jon. A few days..."  
  
"No, that's not what I mean." Archer kept the emotion out of his voice. "How long have you two been sleeping together?"  
  
Trip sighed heavily and said, "Just a few weeks. Since the explosion in Engineering." He looked at Jon and narrowed his eyes. "We stopped before we found out she was pregnant."  
  
Archer sat down, leaned back in the chair and shook his head. He glared at Trip. "I thought you two were 'just friends.' Meditation partners and friends, right? Isn't that what you've been telling me for years?"  
  
"Jon," Trip started. He sat up straight, suddenly realizing why he'd been dreading this conversation. "It just happened. Hell, we've been meditatin' together for years. It just started...all of a sudden. Neither one of us saw it comin'."  
  
"Something like that doesn't just happen overnight, Trip," Archer commented.  
  
"No, I guess not. But whatever triggered it just kinda hit us an' the next thing ya know, we're in each others' arms." Trip looked at Jon and shrugged.  
  
Archer nodded absently, nostrils flared. "Why'd you stop?"  
  
"We both came to the same conclusion that this couldn't go anywhere."  
  
"Well I'd say it went somewhere, Trip," Jon said. "She's pregnant for godsakes!"  
  
"I know that!" snapped Trip. He was getting angry now. "If you'd been listenin' t'me you'd have heard me say that neither one of us, let alone the Doc, thought this was even possible! We were gonna tell you but I knew this would happen. I was dreadin' tellin' you because I knew you'd freak on me for professional reasons," said Trip. He thought for a moment and added quietly, "but that's not all. This is personal, isn't it?"  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about," spat Archer.  
  
"Oh?" Trip sat back and folded his arms. "I don't, huh?"  
  
The captain said nothing. The two men glared at one another.  
  
Trip stood up and walked towards the door to the small room. He tried looking through the small window, but T'Pol and Phlox were just out of sight. He sighed heavily and turned around to look at Archer.  
  
"You were hopin' somethin' might happen with you and her, weren't you?" Trip finally asked. "I thought you were over that years ago."  
  
"I am over that," said Archer defensively.  
  
"Obviously you're not," returned Trip. "You've been pinin' away for T'Pol this whole time." He bowed his head, trying to rein in his temper and added, "You feel hurt and betrayed."  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"I see what's goin' on here, Jon. You're either mad that I didn't tell you sooner or you're mad that you weren't the one to get to her first." Trip was fuming. "I'm willin' to bet it's the latter."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Trip," said Archer calmly. "Where are you getting this from?"  
  
"This entire conversation!" Trip pointed a finger at Jon. "You're way more concerned with how long I've been sleepin' with T'Pol than the fact that she could be in there dyin'!" His voice cracked on the last word. "If ya truly cared about her, her well-being would be the first thing you'd be thinkin' about. Not this."  
  
"Don't be stupid!" Archer replied coldly. "Is that the kind of man you think I am?"  
  
"Stupid? You're callin' me stupid now?" Trip glared at his friend. "I don't believe this. An' ta think that I was worried about gettin' a lecture from you about Vulcan/Human relations bein' all messed up because of this. I shoulda known you'd be madder about me bein' with her. You're jealous, Jon! That's the kind of man I think you are."  
  
"You think I'm jealous?" snapped Archer. He didn't know how to respond to that so he brushed it off. "You know, Trip, I think you should be less concerned with my emotional state and more concerned with the mess I'm going to have to clean up for you two. This is going to be a diplomatic nightmare."  
  
Trip stared at Jon. He shook his head and sat back down, a derisive snort escaping him. "Your timin' sucks, Jon, ya know that? Maybe if you'da told me you still had somethin' for her, none of this would've happened. You had enough time fer Christ's sakes."  
  
"So this is my fault?" Archer shot back. "What if I had told you? How would things be any different? You said it yourself, Trip, it just happened."  
  
"At least I would have known she was off limits!" Trip returned. "You can't have it both ways, Jon."  
  
The two men stared at each other for a long minute and finally Archer looked away. Trip's gaze drifted back to the door.  
  
Archer sighed heavily. "I guess it doesn't matter now, does it? What's done is done."  
  
Trip nodded and looked at Jon. "I honestly didn't know," he huffed. He idly rubbed his palms on his thighs and once again dropped his gaze from Archer's face.  
  
"Can I just ask you one thing?" said Archer. He got up and began to pace the small room.  
  
Trip looked up. "What?"  
  
"Do you love her?"  
  
"What kinda question is that? 'Course I do! T'Pol is one of the best friends I have!"  
  
"But are you in love with her?" Archer clarified. "If this was just a quick- "  
  
"It wasn't, dammit!" Trip insisted, standing again. They stood glaring at each other again before Trip continued through clenched teeth, "I resent you even askin' that. This is neither the time nor place for this, Jon."  
  
Archer looked at Trip. "You're right. This isn't the time or place for this." There was a twinge of remorse in his voice.  
  
The door to the little room opened then and Dr. Phlox entered. He stood just inside the doorway and regarded the two humans cautiously. "Gentlemen," he said quietly.  
  
"How is she, Doc?" they both asked in unison, their argument momentarily forgotten.  
  
Phlox studied them both for a moment before his gaze fell on Trip. "T'Pol is resting. She'll be fine in a few days."  
  
Trip breathed a sigh of relief. "That's great, Doc. I-"  
  
"Please, Mr. Tucker, let me finish." He paused, took a deep breath and looked down. "I wasn't able to save the baby, Commander. There were too many complications. I'm deeply sorry."  
  
"Oh God," Trip whispered. "Oh no...T'Pol..." He felt like he'd just been socked in the stomach, the air leaving his lungs in a giant huff of shock. He backed up a couple steps and hit the wall. Trip's eyes glistened and darted wildly around the room, unable to find a focal point.  
  
"Trip," Jon started. "I'm so sorry." He reached a hand out to him, but Trip knocked it away.  
  
"Don't, Jon. Not now...I can't." Trip looked away from Archer and struggled to rein in his emotions. Everything started to crash down around him.  
  
"Can I see her?" Trip asked the floor. His voice was barely audible. The doctor only nodded and gently grasped Trip's elbow, leading him out of the small room. Jonathan Archer stayed behind and sank heavily into a nearby chair and resumed Trip's earlier position of looking at the floor.  
  
** ** ** **  
  
Phlox led Trip to T'Pol's bedside. She was covered in a light sheet. Her hair was mussed and her features pale. Trip winced as he saw her.  
  
"She's been sedated. She won't wake up until sometime tomorrow," Phlox said quietly. He pulled a chair closer to the biobed and turned to leave. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tucker. I'll be in the other room if you need me," he said and closed the curtain behind him.  
  
Alone now with T'Pol, he took her hand and bent over her sleeping form. He placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled back slowly. He stared at her. He bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears.  
  
He wanted desperately to know what happened. Was it because of her? Was it because of him? The mere thought that they weren't compatible for this jerked a choked sob from him. Trip had no answers to the questions swirling around in his head. He hoped like hell the doctor would know something, anything, as to why T'Pol's body rejected the child.  
  
Trip allowed everything to sink in. They'd lost the baby. The miracle they were going to share was impossible after all. And Trip almost lost T'Pol in the process. This woman lying on the bed before him meant the world and then some to him, Trip realized.  
  
He pulled the chair closer and sat down. Trip grasped her hand and held on tight. He closed his eyes. The floodgates had opened and the tears now spilled freely down his cheeks. As he thought about everything he had, everything he could have had, more sobs wracked his body.  
  
Long minutes passed as he wept silently at her side. He had no idea how T'Pol would react to the news that they'd lost the baby. Trip thought he knew her pretty well but couldn't imagine what this was going to do to her. He had to be strong for her...for himself. He tried to compose himself by wiping his face with his sleeve. He looked at her face once more, his chest tightening into another sob. Trip clutched at her hand and lowered his head to rest on the bed. He turned his head toward the wall and stared at nothing for a while. Small tears continued to meander their way down his face. When exhaustion caught up to him and no more tears came, Trip finally closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.  
  
** ** ** **  
  
He was vaguely aware of gentle fingers running through his hair. Trip sat up with a start, finding himself in Sickbay. He looked around quickly and his gaze settled on T'Pol. She was awake and looking at him. Her face was impassive as always.  
  
"Good morning," she said softly. Her hand reached out to him.  
  
"Mornin'," Trip replied. He tried to smile as he grasped her hand. He couldn't do it and looked away. Tears welled up in his eyes.  
  
"Trip," whispered T'Pol. She tugged his hand to get him to look at her. "I know. The doctor told me."  
  
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Trip squeezed her hand and tried to hold in the sobs that were threatening again. "Oh God, T'Pol. I'm sorry," he managed to choke out. He leaned forward and buried his face in her neck, careful not to touch her middle. T'Pol wrapped her arms around him as best she could and held his shaking form as he wept.  
  
He kept repeating his apology into her shoulder like a mantra. Finally T'Pol guided him back so she could look into his face. "Why do you keep apologizing?" she asked him softly, cupping his cheeks. "This is not your fault, Trip. Why do you blame yourself?"  
  
"If I hadn't wanted to see you lose control, none of this woulda happened," Trip whispered. "If I didn't push you, we wouldn't have had sex, I wouldn't have gotten you pregnant and you wouldn't have lost the baby." He couldn't look her in the eye. "This all could have been avoided if I hadn't been so damn selfish."  
  
"Trip," T'Pol began, "you are not selfish. You're the most giving human I have ever met."  
  
Unable to speak, Trip looked at his lover through his tears. He bit his bottom lip and nodded once.  
  
T'Pol's thumbs gently stroked Trip's cheeks and jaw. She blinked back unshed tears and said, "You told me once that everything happens for a reason. Do you remember that?"  
  
Trip, his head still down, nodded. "Yeah."  
  
"Do you really think this, us, wouldn't have happened? Do you think it was just your desire to see me lose control? We both know that's not true. It was a long time coming, Trip. It would have happened eventually."  
  
"You think so?" he sniffed.  
  
"Yes, I do. It was unavoidable." T'Pol paused. "I never asked you to stop, did I?"  
  
Trip looked up. "No, I guess you didn't." He wiped at his face, trying to hide a small smile.  
  
"Perhaps having a child was just not meant to be. We may not be destined for parenthood," T'Pol replied.  
  
"Can't change the course of Destiny, huh?" Trip said. "I'm sorry things turned out this way." He then felt the lump return to his throat as he watched T'Pol's bottom lip quiver, just a bit. He felt his own doing the same. "You don't regret it?" he choked out.  
  
"I regret nothing of my time with you. I enjoyed everything," she said, a tear finally escaping. It rolled down her cheek uninhibited. "It was a wonderful experience. It still is." She gripped his hand tighter.  
  
Trip watched the tear travel down her face and disappear under her jaw. He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. "I love you more than anything, t'hy'la. For as long as I live," he whispered.  
  
T'Pol raised an eyebrow and allowed a slight smile to play across her lips. "T'hy'la? Where did you learn that word?"  
  
He kissed her again and replied, "You've taught me a lot, T'Pol. More than you'll ever know." Trip finally felt he had a reason to smile. He grasped her other hand, his lifeline, and held it tightly.  
  
"Trip?" T'Pol said quietly. Her eyes were shining. "I love you too, t'hy'la."  
  
Trip's smile grew broader as he leaned in and rested his head next to hers. They were going to make it, he thought.  
  
  
  
EPILOGUE  
  
  
  
He was gathering up some things to take to T'Pol's quarters when the chime on his door sounded.  
  
"Come in!" Trip called out. He turned around to find Jonathan Archer standing near the doorway.  
  
"Evening, Trip," the captain greeted his Chief Engineer. A tight smile formed on his lips.  
  
"Cap'n," returned the engineer. "What brings you by?"  
  
"I was just out walking the halls and this is where I ended up."  
  
Trip looked up. "That's not like you to jus' wander about, Cap'n. Did ya have somethin' on your mind?" Trip waited.  
  
"Actually yes," Archer replied, "I did." He gestured to a chair. "May I?"  
  
Trip nodded. "Please."  
  
Archer took a deep breath. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry." He waited a moment to gauge his friend's reaction. When Trip just cocked his head to the side and waited, Archer continued. "I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday."  
  
"You don't have to do this," said Trip, holding up a hand. "It's not necessary."  
  
"Yes, Trip, it is." Archer glanced at his friend and continued. "I'm so sorry about your loss. I know this must be hard on both of you right now."  
  
"Yeah," he acknowledged. "It is hard. But we'll get through it. Thanks." He shoved more items in his duffel bag.  
  
Archer sighed. "And I'm sorry that I got a little green."  
  
"A little green?" Trip said looking up. He was still a bit pissy with Jon about that.  
  
"Trip," said Archer, his voice not quite at warning level. "I realize that I was an ass about the whole thing."  
  
"Yes, you were." Trip paused before continuing. "I really did think you were over her, you know."  
  
"Well, I guess we both know I'm not." Archer sighed again. "What's done is done."  
  
"Jon, don't give me this 'done is done' crap. Don't blow it off like that. If you've got somethin' to say, say it." Trip sat down across from Archer. "I'm a big boy. I can handle it."  
  
"What can I say, Trip? I missed my opportunity. I had all the time in the world to do something about it and I didn't."  
  
Trip looked at Jon. "Well, why didn't you?"  
  
Archer dropped his eyes. "I don't know. That's the thing, I just don't know. It didn't seem right. I tried to picture myself with her and no matter how many times I thought about it, it never seemed to work."  
  
"So, what, you didn't wanna take a chance?"  
  
"No." Archer looked regretful.  
  
"Why the hell not, Jon?" Trip was confused. "If ya wanted her..."  
  
"Because," said Archer, "because I saw the way that you were with her. Meditating together, working side-by-side, bickering like schoolchildren whenever there was a conflict. I could see it well before either one of you did. I guess I never did anything about it because every time I thought of her, I thought of her with you."  
  
Trip's jaw dropped. "What? Why didn't you say anything?"  
  
"It wasn't my place, Trip. I can't encourage fraternization amongst the crew. If it happened, I would have dealt with it but it wasn't for me to say." Archer looked up. "And now here we are. It's happened. And I'm dealing with it. Though not too well at the moment."  
  
Trip just sat there. He had never had a conversation like this with him. This was rather unexpected. "Jon, I don't know what to say."  
  
"I guess there really isn't much to say," said Archer. "It's going to take some time for me to work through this. I can't say I approve. But I can't say that I disapprove, either."  
  
"So, what about the Vulcan High Council? An' Starfleet?" Trip asked reluctantly. "Don't you hafta file some sorta report with them regardin' this...situation?"  
  
"Yes. Under normal circumstances I would have to file a report. But sometimes I think some things are better left unsaid. In this case, what they don't know won't hurt them. Don't you think?"  
  
Trip nodded. "Yes sir. Thank you."  
  
Archer forced a smile. "Don't mention it. Please."  
  
Trip was silent for a few seconds. He studied his friend's face. He could see the sincerity there, the honest sorrow. "Jus' to clarify, I am, y'know," said Trip quietly.  
  
"You are what?" Archer asked, confused. He sat with his elbows on his knees.  
  
"In love with her," Trip answered. He leaned forward. "I never answered your question in Sickbay yesterday."  
  
The captain nodded. "I'm glad."  
  
"Never thought I'd hear myself say that. I'm in love with a Vulcan," Trip said, chuckling lightly. He looked up at his friend. "T'Pol is everything I'm not, Jon."  
  
Archer looked him in the eye. "So you're happy, then?"  
  
It was Trip's turn to nod. "Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I am." He regarded the man before him. "Are we gonna be okay?"  
  
Archer looked back at him. "Yeah, Trip, you will be."  
  
"Not me an' T'Pol. I meant us." He pointed to himself and then to Archer.  
  
"Yeah, I know," said Archer. He got up from his chair. "Goodnight, Trip."  
  
Before Trip could utter a reply Archer was gone, leaving the engineer staring thoughtfully at the door.  
  
  
  
^^FINIS^^  
  
  
  
AUTHORS' NOTES: Sorry this took so long to write. Hopefully we got our timeline right. It was a labor of love that took a lot of time to bring to fruition. We are very pleased with this and hope that our readers enjoyed it as well. If there is some interest, we might consider following it up with a little back story (prequels seem to be popular these days) as to why Archer reacted the way he did to Trip & T'Pol's situation. It probably wouldn't happen for a while though as we're currently cooking on all four burners and still falling behind. As always, thanks for reading.  
  
stub & Joe 


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